Once Upon a Midnight Dreary
by Darcy Brandon
Summary: It’s Halloween night. A prominent NYC citizen is found dead at a dinner party where everyone has a motive, but no one’s talking. Can the two teams of detectives solve the mystery before the killer strikes again? MysteryHumorParody
1. Not So Elementary, Watson

_**A/N: First, as always, I don't own these characters—they are the property of NBC and the great Dick Wolf. Second, thanks to the late Edgar Allan Poe for the title of this story, taken from "The Raven." And to the writers of Sherlock Holmes, Nancy Drew, CLUE, and all the other mystery stories/movies of my youth—thanks for the inspiration. And to you readers: please read and review! Thanks!**_

**Chapter 1: Not So Elementary, Watson**

"It's…It's aliiiiive!" The crazed inventor cackled maniacally.

"Dad, this isn't scary," Jamie Deakins turned her head and looked at her father, who was sitting on the couch with her mother and younger sister.

"This version of _Frankenstein _is a classic," Jim Deakins told his daughter, pausing the film. "And if you don't want to watch it, you can go to bed."

"I'm not tired."

"It's not my fault you hyped yourself up on Halloween candy…" Deakins sighed, and then pressed the "Play" button.

The inventor continued to cackle. Outside, thunder clapped and lightning crackled across the New York sky as the rain that had been pouring all day continued to fall. Then the power went out. All three of his daughters screamed.

"Thought you weren't scared," he told Jamie, who had climbed into his lap.

"I'm…n-not…"

"I'm going to go find a flashlight and check the circuit breaker," Deakins said. "I think it's time for you girls to go to bed…it is _way _past your bedtimes."

XXX

He was outside, sheltered from the rain by the back patio cover, when Deakins' cell phone rang. He answered it, noting that the time was now 12:20am.

"Deakins," he said. "What?...Are you serious?...Warren Policy? The columnist? Right…all four of them…you got it…" He closed his phone, thought for a moment, and then opened it again. He sent one page, with the same message, to four different numbers and headed back inside to let his wife know he had to go down to the precinct.

XXX

Mike Logan was at a Halloween party at the Manhattan Mayhem bar. He didn't know how he'd ended up dressed in costume…he had a feeling it had something to do with attracting women...Most of the other patrons were in costume, so it wasn't unusual, and dressing like Sherlock Holmes had paid off—he noticed a woman in a nurse's costume eyeing him. Before he could make a move, he felt his cell phone go off. He reached for it, saw the page from Deakins and groaned. There went his exciting night…

XXX

Alex Eames was on the dance floor at Club Viva, moving her hips to the sounds of "Monster Mash" when she realized her phone was vibrating. She stepped off to the side and checked her messages. The precinct? _Now? _She wouldn't have time to change…she knew wearing the "sexy bunny" costume had been a bad idea…

XXX

Carolyn Barek couldn't breathe. The corset was killing her. "Thank God I didn't live in the 19th century," she muttered to her friend, Anna. "I wouldn't have lasted a day."

"But you make such a wonderful Scarlett O'Hara," Anna replied. "And the patients love it…it's for a good cause…"

"You're right…the pain of this corset is nothing compared to…shoot…my phone is going off…"

"So answer it."

"So, it's in my…petticoats…" She managed to get the phone, just as the "Message" light started blinking. "Work," she said simply. "Tell Rhett and Ashley I'm skipping out on them."

XXX

The dried paint was making his face itch like crazy. Bobby Goren still could not believe he'd let Monica talk him into this…They'd only been out on one other date…Why did he agree to go out on Halloween? And to let her pick his costume? He was at the refreshment table, standing awkwardly. It really couldn't get any worse than this. And then his phone went off. He checked the message from Deakins. Okay, he was wrong. It _had _gotten worse. Tenfold.

XXX

Mike arrived at Major Case, holding a magnifying glass in one hand and a pipe in the other. The fake mustache and big, floppy plaid hat were also still on.

"Is this a joke?" Deakins asked.

"Hey, it's Halloween," Mike said. "And you said it was urgent."

"Great…maybe you can channel Sherlock Holmes and he can help you guys with this case."

"What's going on?"

"I'll tell you when the others get here. No need to repeat myself four times."

Just then, Alex walked in, arms crossed, an angry look upon her face. Neither of the men noticed these things, because the bunny costume more than had their attention.

"You say anything, I swear to God I'll kill you both," she snapped.

Mike tried desperately to keep in his laughter.

"_What?" _Alex said. "I'm a single female. I was getting my groove on."

"Is that what they're calling it now?" Mike couldn't resist.

For that, she socked him hard in the arm. He only laughed more, and even Deakins' eyes were filled with mirth.

Carolyn walked in a moment later, hoop skirt in full swing.

"Good grief, I didn't realize Halloween was now for grown ups too," Deakins said.

"I was at a fundraiser," Carolyn said defensively.

"For what? Widows of the Confederacy?" Alex grinned, grateful the attention was off of her for a moment.

"The cancer ward at Manhattan General, thanks," Carolyn said. "Who let out Little Bunny Foo Foo?"

"Ladies, ladies…" But before Deakins could go any further, they were struck dumb at the sight of Bobby Goren coming in the doors.

As his partner, Alex felt the right to tease first, once she'd regained the ability to speak. "Bobby…I had no idea you were a stand-in for the Jolly Green Giant."

"I'm supposed to be the Incredible Hulk…

His colleagues were bursting at the seams, trying not to laugh.

"I didn't have time to change…though I see I'm not the only one…" Bobby turned to Deakins. "So now that we're all here…what's going on?"

"Right…the case," Deakins remembered himself, and why he'd called them all down there in the first place. "Warren Policy was found dead about an hour ago."

"Warren Policy…the columnist for the Post?" Alex asked.

"The one and the same. He was hosting a dinner party at his mansion on the outskirts of town…a Halloween party for the elite, apparently. There were four guests still there when he died…but no one knows what happened or how or why…"

XXX

Mike pulled the sedan up to Burke House, the large estate that was so far out of the way that it was barely in their jurisdiction. He was still wearing the goofy hat and mustache, and his colleagues were still wearing their attire. He felt lucky to be the least ridiculous-looking of the bunch.

They made their way up to the doors of the place, which was now surrounded by police officers.

"Sorry, party's over," an officer said, moving in the way of the foursome.

"NYPD," they all said at once, fishing for their badges.

"Goren…Bobby Goren is that _you? _What in the hell…"

"Never mind it," Bobby said, clenching his teeth, "Just let us by."

The officer acquiesced, and they went inside the house. Luckily for them, they were immediately spotted by Dr. Elizabeth Rodgers.

"Wow…I'm not even going to ask," she said. "The body's in the parlor. The party guests are being held in the living room…why don't you come with me and I'll catch you up on what's going on…"

They followed her to the parlor, where the body of Warren Policy, the sensational Post columnist lie, face down.

"Cause of death?" Alex asked.

"We're not quite sure," Rodgers said.

"That…that looks like a bullet hole to me," Bobby said, crouching down by the body.

Carolyn was looking around at the room, muttering to herself. "Exit path…exit…"

"No exit path," Rodgers said, "Bullet's lodged in his body somewhere. But that's not his only injury, and I don't know that that's what killed him."

"What do you mean?" Mike asked.

She got on the floor and flipped over the body.

"Stab wounds," Carolyn observed. "Several."

"As well as strangulation around the neck," Rodgers said.

"Someone…or multiple someones shot him, stabbed him and strangled him," Mike said.

"The problem is, who did it, and which injury killed him," Rodgers said. "I'll have to take him back to the lab and run tests to find out."

A uniformed police officer came in the room just then to find them all around the body.

"Uh…are you the Major Case people?" he asked, warily.

"That would be us," Alex said. "I'm Detective Eames, this is Detectives Logan, Goren and Barek."

"Officer Dooley," the officer said. "My partner and I have been interviewing the guests…there were four people left when the murder happened. They were all in different parts of the house, other than this room…they all have their whereabouts accounted for by other people…Also, the murder happened when the power went out."

"Why do I feel like I'm suddenly in a Milton Bradley game," Mike muttered.

"You guys can, uh, go ahead and interview them if you'd like," Officer Dooley said. "Be careful though…you've got some power players in there."

"I know Warren Policy's wife is Samantha Burke, the New York One anchor," Carolyn said. "Who else is here?"

"Claire Wentworth, the heiress, for starters," Dooley said. "As well as Brett McInerney, the guy that the Yankees just signed, and Mark LeBeau."

"The shoe guy!" Alex said.

"That's right," Dooley said. "Like I said…they're not being very helpful…maybe you can all work your MCS magic on them…though if you're wearing that bunny costume…" He looked at Alex. "That might make the men talk…well…at least Brett McInerney."

Alex glared at him, realizing that while her colleagues were oddly dressed, they weren't in skimpy clothing. She suddenly felt even more out of place.

"Here," Mike said noticing her discomfort. He took off the long plaid jacket he wore and handed it to her. "Bunny-be-gone."

She took it and cast him a grateful glance. "Okay, Barek and I can take the women…why don't you guys take the men…"

Nearly an hour later, they met back in the foyer of the house.

"Samantha Burke was upstairs, taking a bath," Carolyn said. "The maid had just brought her a towel when the power went out. Then they heard the gunshot."

"Claire Wentworth was in the kitchen, getting a glass of wine," Alex said. "The cook was in the kitchen when she was in there. The power went out, and then they also heard the gunshot."

"Presuming it was the gunshot that killed him," Bobby said. "And not something before that, like the stab wound or the strangulation."

"Right…"

"Mark LeBeau was in the bathroom," Mike said. "So was our star Yankee."

"What were they…"

"Don't ask, don't tell…but they accounted for each other."

"Wow…if Warren Policy had found out about that…it would have been all over the Post," Alex said.

"Maybe he did find out," Bobby said. "It would give them reason to kill him."

"I found this in the parlor," Carolyn said. "I went back to look at the body…it was under his shoe." She produced a small note.

"To my dearest Warren," Mike read. "Always, Your Claire."

"I thought Samantha was his wife," Bobby said.

"She is," Alex said. "And now they've both got motive as well."

"So they all have motive," Bobby said. "But they also all have alibis…we can't arrest them all."

"If they all could have wanted him dead…they might all be covering for each other," Carolyn said.

"I know!" Mike said, twiddling his fake mustache. "It was Colonel Mustard, in the Billiards Room, with the candlestick."

"_Not helping," _Carolyn said.

"At least I'm not wearing a hoop skirt."


	2. The Clue of the Broken Locket

_**A/N: Thanks for helping me kick off this story with all your reviews! Please keep them coming! Also, thank you to the late Carolyn Keene for the title of this chapter, as well as for creating one of my childhood heroes, the one and only Nancy Drew.**_

**Chapter 2: The Clue of The Broken Locket**

"What about the cook and the maid?" Alex asked. "Has anyone talked to them?"

"Yeah, Dooley and his partner talked to them," Bobby said. "They both stick to their stories—the maid that she was with Samantha Burke, and the cook that she was with Claire Wentworth."

"I bet they know what really went on," Carolyn said "But they don't want to lose their jobs…or be deported for that matter…Dooley said they were both illegal immigrants."

"Then again, they could be telling the truth, for all we know," Mike said. "We don't know who's hiding what and if what they're hiding is murder. I suspect they all have something to hide…it doesn't necessarily make all of them murderers…"

"No, but it makes at least one of them," Bobby said.

Deakins arrived just then, interrupting their musings. They explained the situation.

"Have the four party-goers arrested for obstruction and conspiracy to commit murder," Deakins said. "That'll at least let us hold them overnight."

"What about the cook and the maid?" Bobby asked.

"Don't arrest them…I'll take care of them and let them know they need to cooperate if they don't want us to get INS involved…you guys handle the arrests."

Deakins went to talk with the cook and the maid while the four detectives went back into the living room where the carefully guarded witnesses/suspects were still being held.

"We have a problem, folks," Mike said. "We have a murder. No murder weapon. Four people who were conveniently all in other places, and who all had motive to kill the deceased."

"That's absurd!" Claire Wentworth spat. She was dressed like Marilyn Monroe, in _The Seven Year Itch. _Her hair was naturally blonde.

"Not really," Bobby said.

"You're getting green paint flakes all over my white carpet," Samantha Burke, dressed as Cleopatra, told Goren nastily as she stood up.

"Celebrities," Mike muttered.

"All right, the rest of you need to get up too," Carolyn said. "You're coming with us, and you're all under arrest."

Bobby took the lead and grabbed Samantha Burke who was still giving him the evil eye. "Samantha Burke, you're under arrest…"

Carolyn took Marc LeBeau, who was dressed as a gypsy. "…for obstruction of justice…"

"And conspiracy to commit murder." Alex cuffed Brett McInerney, who wore a cowboy outfit.

"You have the right to an attorney," Mike told Claire Wentworth, as he led her outside, following the three others and their suspects out the grand doors of Burke House. "Should you be unable to afford one, which I doubt…"

XXX

"Ms. Burke," Bobby knew Samantha Burke hated him. It was the green paint flecks he'd gotten on the Persian rug. He felt so stupid still in his costume. How the hell was he supposed to have control over the interrogation when she was looking at him like he had a second head? "Ms. Burke, did you know your husband was having an affair?"

Samantha Burke narrowed her eyes. "Just one?"

"There were others then?" Bobby raised a brow.

"Of course there were others," she snapped. "That whore Claire Wentworth wasn't the first."

"Kind of odd…to invite her over for a party when she's…doing your husband."

"Welcome to the upper echelon of Manhattan society," Samantha said. "Warren and I get married because it looks good for the cameras, for my career and his. We pretend to be happily married. If I _didn't _invite Claire Wentworth to the party _I _would look suspicious…and so would our marriage."

"Did you…ever love him? Or was it just a business deal?"

"I was young and stupid…of course I loved him…I still…love him…and whoever did this should have to pay. But I told you, I have _nothing _to hide…I'm talking to you without my lawyer, aren't I?"

"Who…is there anyone you think could have killed your husband? Presuming…you're telling the truth…"

"They all had reason," Samantha said. "So did a hundred other people. All of them friends of ours. For all I know, there could have been someone hiding in the house…one of the party guests who had already left…waiting for a moment alone with Warren. They could have snuck out just as easily…"

"I'm going to need a list of all the guests," Bobby said.

XXX

"You design shoes, Mr. LeBeau?" Carolyn sat across from Marc LeBeau.

"Yes," LeBeau said. "Yours are killer by the way…ohhh…bad word choicing…"

"Thanks, they're from a costume shop," Carolyn frowned.

"This is the most colorful I've ever seen NYPD," LeBeau went on. "Especially that big guy…in the green…nice body…"

Carolyn tried not to laugh.

"Well, we police officers have lives too," Carolyn said, "But we're called out on the scene at the drop of a hat…regardless of…how we're dressed." She stood up. "Mr. LeBeau, what were you doing in the bathroom with Brett McInerney?"

"Oh is that what this is about?" LeBeau laughed. "Not what you think, I assure you…I mean, _I am_…well, _ya know_…but Brett McInerney is as straight as an arrow."

"So…what were you doing?"

"I wasn't supposed to say anything…"

"Trust me, it's better we find this out now rather than later."

"Brett McInerney is getting married…well…he's planning on asking his girlfriend. You know Stella Devoe, the model? He was asking me if I'd design her wedding dress and shoes, the whole kit and caboodle. I was under his strictest confidence."

"Don't worry. NYPD generally likes to stay away from the Post and the Ledger."

XXX

Alex was still wearing Mike's Sherlock Holmes jacket over the bunny costume, and she clutched it tightly across her chest as she went in to question Brett McInerney. She had ditched the bunny ears long ago but somehow, interrogating someone while wearing heels and fishnet stockings didn't seem right…

"Mr. McInerney," she said as she went over to the table where he was seated. "How were you acquainted with Warren Policy and his wife, Samantha Burke?"

"What do you mean, how am I ac—acquain—assssociated?" McInerney slurred.

No one had told her that he was drunk.

"How did you merit an invitation to this elite party?" Alex asked.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm freaking Brett McInerney! I just got signed with the Yankees for next season! That's how I got invited."

"Alright then, Mr. McInerney. No need to raise your voice."

"Look, Nancy Drew, I don't have time for this."

Alex narrowed her eyes. "And I don't have time for your drunken 'Look-at-me-I'm-better-than-you' shit. I think you can go sit in the drunk tank until you sober up."

XXX

Claire Wentworth was lounging lazily in the hard-backed interrogation room chair, same as if she was sitting on a chaise or something. Mike walked in, hat and fake mustache gone, but still looking silly in the oversized plaid suit and floppy shoes. The magnifying glass (for no apparent reason) was peeking out above his breast pocket.

"Detective." Claire stood upon his entry.

"Ms. Wentworth," Mike said.

"Please, call me Claire."

"You can sit down, _Claire,"_ Mike said. "I need you to answer some questions."

She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder.

"Don't you think there's…some other way…we can take care of this mess?"

"First of all, that's called bribery, and second of all, you're not actually Marilyn Monroe."

She stood very close to him and while she was quite attractive, it made him very nervous. Perhaps it was _because _she was attractive that he was nervous.

"I didn't kill Warren..."

"But you know who did kill him."

"I'm not saying a word. And certainly not without my attorney present…but…"

"But what?"

She pulled something out of her purse, and then held out her hand. Mike only stood, not knowing what it was, or what she was doing, so she took his hand, and placed the object in it.

He opened his palm. It was a locket. A gold locket, with part of the chain broken off.

"What is this?" he asked.

"Like I said…not a word."

XXX

"Carver just called," Deakins informed the four detectives several hours later.

"And?" Alex asked.

"And they're all out on bail," he said. "All four of them…though, their passports were confiscated."

"So we have four potential murderers out on the loose," Carolyn said. "And still no clue…"

"Oh and we have this," Mike remembered the broken locket just then, pulling it out of his pocket.

"What's that?" Deakins asked.

"A locket…Claire Wentworth gave it to me…"

"What's the significance?" Bobby wanted to know.

"What do I look like, Sherlock Holmes or something?"

"Yes, actually…"

"She didn't tell me anything about it," Mike said. "She refuses to talk. She'd rather go to jail than reveal whatever secret she's hiding."

"Too many secrets," Alex said. "Not enough talking."

"Your job, then," Deakins said, "All four of you, your sole purpose for being right now…is to get them to talk…or get those who know them well to talk."


	3. The Hardy Boys Hardly Find an Answer

_**A/N: Thanks for the reviews! Please continue to read and review!**_

**Chapter 3:**

**The Hardy Boys Hardly Find The Answers**

It was 10am. All of their suspects had been released on bail, and Carver had just warned them that they needed to produce something more substantial or the obstruction and conspiracy charges were going to get thrown out. The four detectives were slumped over their respective desks. Carolyn was downing coffee, Mike was staring into space, Alex was still wearing the Sherlock Holmes coat and Bobby was picking at his fading green face paint. Deakins walked in to see his best detectives in their present state.

"Can we please go home now?" Alex asked. "Even if it's just to change out of our costumes? These heels are killing me."

"I can't remember the last time I slept," Mike piped up.

"Yeah," Carolyn added. "Goren's face is falling off and this corset has permanently changed my breathing pattern."

"Alright, alright," Deakins said. "Be back here by 1:00 this afternoon."

"Oooh, a whole three hours of sleep," Mike said.

XXX

"Excuse me?"

Bobby looked up from his desk. He'd started to doze off waiting for Eames to get in. It was 1:30pm and no one else was back yet, except for Deakins, who had never left.

"Can I help you?" Bobby asked the older woman who stood, wringing her hands.

"I need speak…Captain Deakins," the woman said in broken English.

"Just…just a second," Bobby got up. "What's your name?"

"Estella Juarez," she said. "I work for Mrs. Samantha."

The maid! Of course! Had he gotten more than an hour and a half of sleep, Bobby thought, he may have been able to put it together quicker. He showed Estella Juarez to Deakins' office. Then he sat back down and closed his eyes again. When he woke up again, it was nearly 2:00pm.

"Rise and shine," the newly arrived Mike Logan grinned.

"The maid," Goren stood up.

"She's still in with Deakins," Logan said.

"Where's your partner?" Goren asked.

"I dunno…where's yours?"

"I…I don't know…" Bobby scratched his head.

"Goren, Logan," Deakins called. "I need to see you for a minute…where are Barek and Eames?"

"Umm…probably still sleeping," Mike guessed.

"Great…get in here and then call them both, get their asses down here."

The two detectives went into the captain's office.

"This is Estella Juarez," Deakins said. "She's Samantha Burke's maid. Mrs. Juarez, this is Detectives Goren and Logan. Would you please tell them what you just told me?"

Estella Juarez nodded.

"Mrs. Samantha…she pay me…to say she taking a bath…but she not in her bedroom when the power go out."

Mike raised his brows. "Really…"

Deakins nodded. "Go call your partners, boys, and then I want you two to go pick up Samantha Burke for questioning."

XXX

"You've reached Carolyn Barek. I'm unavailable to take your call…"

"Barek, it's Logan. Where the hell are you, we've got--"

"I'm here…gahh…I'm here," Carolyn picked up. "Shit…I slept through my alarm."

"Get on down here," Mike said. "Goren and I are on our way to pick up Samantha Burke."

Meanwhile, Bobby was leaving a message of his own.

"Eames, wake up…Eames, pick up the phone…Eames, wake up…"

"Ugh…Bobby, go away…Bobby, hang up the phone," Alex replied, having also just woken up.

"You, uh, planning on…coming back to work today?" Bobby asked politely.

"Oh, yeah," Alex said. "Thanks for reminding me."

XXX

After they called their partners, Logan and Goren made their way to the outskirts of town, to Burke House. They knocked on the door to no avail. Finally, just as they were about to leave, the door opened. It was another maid.

"Is Ms. Burke home?" Bobby asked.

"She's in town," the maid answered. "Getting a manicure. A place called Eva's."

"Okay, thanks," Mike said, as they turned to go back to the car.

"Her husband's been dead less than a day…and she's getting a manicure…" Bobby said.

"The rich cope differently than us plain folk," Mike said.

XXX

Barek and Eames rushed into the bullpen of Major Case at nearly the same time.

"You hear about Samantha Burke?" Alex asked.

"Yup."

"Ladies," Deakins said, spotting them both. "How nice of you to join us."

Before they could offer a defense, he smiled and continued. "I want you two to drop by Samantha's place of work…New York One. Talk to her co-workers. See what they have to say about her."

"What if she's there?" Barek asked.

"Logan just called," Deakins said. "She's out getting her nails done. They're on their way to see her."

XXX

"Ms. Burke," Bobby said, as they walked up to the new widow, who was sitting with her feet propped up, getting her toes carefully painted.

"What is this about?" she asked.

"We need you to come down to the precinct with us," Bobby said. "I…hope we didn't…catch you at a bad time."

XXX

"David Nolan?" Alex asked the middle-aged man with glasses and thinning hair.

"That would be me," he answered, looking up from his desk.

"Detective Eames, NYPD. This is Detective Barek. We're here to talk to you about Samantha Burke."

"Oh yes…tragedy what happened to her husband," Nolan said, putting his pen down.

"How long have you worked with Ms. Burke?" Alex asked.

"Five years," Nolan said. "Ever since I hired her…"

"Before she married Warren Policy," Carolyn said.

"That's right," Nolan said. "They weren't even dating yet. She worked her way up to anchor just before they started going out. She's one of my best…it's a shame that she's going to be leaving, though."

"She's…leaving New York One?" Alex asked.

"Well…yes…You see…the company that owns New York One also owns Warren's newspaper. They just renewed his contract…but…Warren's always been known for going out on limbs with his columns…the company was threatening not to renew it…until he told them he could help them fix their other problem…"

"Which was?"

"Getting rid of his wife," Nolan said. "Her ratings have dropped drastically in the past year and a half. He told them if they renewed his contract he could convince her to let the company buy out her contract for New York One."

"Let me guess," Carolyn said. "Ms. Burke was not too pleased about her husband's plan."

"Of course not," Nolan said. "She still had two years on her contract…she worked hard to get to where she was…but then something changed…I didn't know what it was…she came into work last week to give me her two weeks notice."

"That must have been quite a shock," Alex said.

"It was…and like any good journalist, I investigated," Nolan said. "Turns out, the bank was about to foreclose on Burke House—their fancy mansion on the edge of town. It's been in Samantha's family for generations. Seems that Warren had some gambling problems and his debt-collectors conveniently all came around to collect his debts at the same time…which meant that in order for Samantha to keep her house, she needed the money that the company was going to pay to buy out her contract."

"So her husband sold her out," Carolyn said.

"Funny how she forgot to mention that part," Alex mused.

XXX

Meanwhile, back at the precinct, Mike was questioning Samantha Burke while Bobby listened on the other side of the glass.

"Why did you lie to us, Samantha?" Mike asked.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she looked at him with indignation.

"Come on," he said. "We talked to your maid, Estella. She told us you were lying about being in the bath when your husband was killed…What happened? Did you catch him going at it with Claire Wentworth in your own house?"

"Screw you," she said.

"You know, you're the only one without an alibi now," Mike said. "That looks pretty bad…especially since you lied to us. Even if you didn't kill him, that obstruction of justice charge is going to stick like white on rice…that can't be good for your career."

"What would you know about my career," she spat.

Just then, Bobby poked his head in the door. "Logan," he said, "Barek and Eames are back…they need to see us."

Mike got up. "I'll be right back, Ms. Burke."

He followed Bobby over to Carolyn's desk, where she and Alex were waiting.

"Here come the Hardy Boys," Alex said.

"What have you got?" Mike asked.

They told him about what the producer, Nolan, had told them.

"Well, well, well," Mike said. "Motive for sure…why don't we go see if we can use this to our advantage." He led the way back to the interrogation room. "Shall I continue or do one of you want to handle this?"

"You started," Alex said.

Mike nodded. "Okay, then." He went back into the room.

"You doing all right, Samantha?" he asked.

"I'd be a hell of a lot better if I wasn't in this room," she said.

"They've got nice cells at the women's prison," Mike said. "We can take you there if you'd like…though…after our prosecutor gets done with you, you may not have a choice."

"Stop it!" she cried. "I didn't do anything!"

"Really? That's not what your boss, Mr. Nolan told our detectives. Says your husband sold you out, Samantha. For his own gain. That had to hurt. First he cheats on you, then he leaves your career in ruins."

"I told you people," Samantha cried, "I knew all about Warren's women…that was nothing new."

"But his new contract with the Post," Mike said. "The one that stipulated you resign from New York One…that gave you a huge settlement…money that you just so happened to need to save your family's house…which Warren put in jeopardy in the first place because of his gambling problems…"

"Son of a bitch!" Samantha screamed, lunging across the table at Mike, who held her back. Eames and Barek rushed in, grabbing the woman as she clawed at Mike's face. It took both of them to hold her down.

"He killed my career!" Samantha yelled. "That bastard sold me out like I was some whore, so I stabbed him. Right in the back. Just like he did me. Only I was a little less metaphorical."

"Samantha Burke, you are under arrest," Eames said as she cuffed the woman.

"I don't think they give bail to people who are already out on bail."

XXX

Less than ten minutes after Samantha Burke had admitted to stabbing her husband, Deakins got a call from the Medical Examiner.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said. "No…no I'll tell them…thanks…I think…"

He went back out to where his detectives were at. "That was the M.E.," he said. "She just called to tell me that she's ruled out the stab wounds as the cause of Warren Policy's death."

"So then…Samantha Burke didn't kill her husband," Bobby said.

"No, but she did attempt to kill him…that charge should stick…so should obstruction and assault on a police officer," Deakins said.

"Her career troubles are the least of her worries," Alex said.

"So we're back to square one then," Carolyn sighed.

"We've still got the broken locket," Mike said.


	4. Killer Shoes

_**A/N: Thanks as always for the reviews! Please continue to read and review!**_

**Chapter 4:**

**Killer Shoes **

The four detectives were returning from dinner when the department sedan was tailgated.

"Great," Mike, who was driving, said. Carolyn was sitting next to him, holding Deakins' take-out on her lap. Alex and Bobby were in the backseat.

They were at a stoplight. Mike got ready to pull over, assuming the driver of the car behind them would do the same. They weren't on a busy street so it should have been easy. But instead, the car pulled closer and bumped them again. The light turned green and Mike had no choice but to go. The car behind them remained close and hit them yet again, this time harder, sending Bobby and Alex forward and Carolyn clutching the dashboard.

"What the hell," Mike angrily looked in the rearview mirror.

"I think we're, uh, being…ambushed," Bobby said.

"Yeah, no shit," Alex said, rubbing her head where it had hit the window.

"Okay…let's play their game," Mike said.

"What are you talking about?" Carolyn asked.

"They want us for something…let 'em chase us," Mike replied, stepping on the gas. He made a sharp right turn at the next intersection.

"Are you out of your mind?" Alex exclaimed.

"Sometimes, Eames, sometimes."

The car continued to follow them and Mike continued to lay on the gas. And then suddenly, he slammed on the brakes. The take-out container went flying from Carolyn's lap, and there was Moo-Shoo pork all over the car, particularly on Goren and Eames, who had just hit their heads once again.

"What, are you on crack, Logan?" Eames screamed.

"No, but now we're the ones chasing them," Mike said, revving up the engine again and taking off in pursuit of the car that had ambushed them, which was now half a block ahead of them. He pulled out the siren and turned it on. He made another sharp turn. They were going away from Manhattan now.

"We're…we're going…to die, aren't we?" Bobby said awhile later as they ran a red light.

"Ye of little faith," Mike retorted, speeding past a sign that said "Welcome to Bronx, NY."

The other car did the same thing Mike had done earlier—slammed on the brakes. By the time the department sedan slowed down and spun around, the other car was out of sight. Mike slammed the steering wheel with his hand and the car came screeching to a halt.

"Okay, get out of the freaking car," Carolyn ordered. "I have Moo-Shoo pork in my eyes and I think you just gave Bobby a heart attack. I'm driving!"

"But you just said you have food in your eyes."

"And I can still drive better than you," she hissed. At her insistence, they switched places.

"Where are we?" Alex asked.

"Yeah, I was closing my eyes," Bobby muttered.

"The Bronx," Carolyn said, adjusting the driver's seat for her height.

"You know what's right near here?" Alex said. "Mark LeBeau's boutique."

"Guy's got a shoe boutique in the Bronx?" Mike asked.

"He's got shops in every borough except Staten Island," Alex said. "The man's a genius. Each shop caters to the tastes and budgets of the neighborhood it's in."

"No wonder he's so popular," Bobby said.

"With rich and poor, I was reading in the Times last week," Carolyn said.

"Women and their shoes," Bobby remarked.

"Please," Alex said. "He's got nearly as many male customers as female…"

"So maybe the occupants of that car were sent by him," Bobby said.

"Who knew shoe gurus had goons to act on their behalf," Mike smirked.

XXX

"Where's my dinner?" Deakins asked as they filed into the bullpen. "I'm starved."

"All over the car," Carolyn said. "You can thank Logan for that."

"Sorry, Captain," Mike said. "I'll go get you something from the deli around the corner…they can catch you up to speed."

XXX

"So you think it was someone sent by Marc LeBeau?" Deakins asked.

"We were within a block of his boutique," Alex said. "It makes sense. We drove by, but there was no one there...at least not in the front. They could have been in the back but we didn't have a warrant."

"I'll call Carver for one," Deakins said. "Even if they're gone, I'm sure if it's him, you'll be able to find something."

XXX

"Open up," Alex called, banging on the back door of LeBeau Boutique.

"NYPD!" Carolyn yelled.

There was no answer. They looked at each other, and then kicked in the door. Their partners had been left to clean out the car and take a statement from Warren Policy and Samantha Burke's cook, who, like the maid, had unexpectedly dropped in.

"You knocked down my door!" It was Marc LeBeau, who had come running.

"We did knock," Carolyn said. "And we have a search warrant."

"I don't understand," Marc said. "I told you everything you wanted to know."

"No, I don't think you did," Carolyn said. "And then you sent some of your buddies to chase us and our partners down."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Marc said.

"If you're hiding anything, we will find out," Alex said. "Now if you'll please step to the side, we're going to search your office."

LeBeau had no other choice but to take a seat as Eames and Barek started tearing apart his office. Carolyn was going through the filing cabinets while Alex threw things out of the desk.

"Barek!" Alex called. "Take a look at this!"

Carolyn came over to the desk and took the paper that Alex held out to her.

"To Warren Policy…regarding financial backing of LA store," Carolyn read out loud. She skimmed the rest of it. "It's signed by you, Mr. LeBeau…it's a copy of the original."

"Looks like in addition to being a gambling addict, the late Mr. Policy loaned out money that he didn't have," Alex said. She turned to the still-seated Marc LeBeau. "So when did Warren tell you he screwed you over?"

"He told me he would help me finance my newest shop," Marc said, "It was supposed to be in Los Angeles. He…he wrote me a check…I got a bunch of investors in just on the fact that Warren Policy was investing…when his check went south, so did my investors…I don't know if I'll ever be on the West Coast now."

"Hmm…you know what that's called, Eames?" Carolyn said.

"I think it's called motive, Barek," Alex said. "Mr. LeBeau, we love your shoes, but we do _not _ like being strung along. You'd better come down to the station with us."

"Am I under arrest?" LeBeau asked.

"Not yet."

XXX

"So let me get this straight," Alex said, as she continued to question Marc LeBeau. Carolyn was outside, looking in the glass. "Warren Policy ruins your chances at expanding your franchise nationwide…and you bear no ill will toward him? You never once thought about making him pay?"

"What can I say," Marc LeBeau laughed nervously. "I'm a lover, not a fighter."

Carolyn came in just then. "Sorry to interrupt…Mr. LeBeau I know you waived your right to have a lawyer present…but would you mind signing this Miranda affidavit?"

"Miranda…but I'm not under arrest," LeBeau said. "You told me I'm not under arrest."

"You're right," Carolyn said. "This is just to ensure in writing the fact that you were advised of your rights."

LeBeau nodded. He took the pen she held out and signed the paper.

"You see this?" Carolyn tossed a photo onto the table for him to look at. It was a crime scene picture of the late Warren Policy, who lie facedown.

"Oh, _God_, why are you showing me that? That's…that's morbid," LeBeau turned his head.

"I noticed when you signed the affidavit, Mr. LeBeau, you signed with your left hand," Carolyn said.

"That's right…I'm left handed," LeBeau said.

"If you'd looked at the picture of Mr. Policy long enough," Alex said. "You would have seen the gunshot wound was to the right side of his back…it could have only been done by a left hander, Mr. Le Beau."

"What is it…one in nine people are left handed?" Carolyn asked. "You were the only one in that house who was a southpaw, Mr. LeBeau…"

"Okay, I did it!" Marc LeBeau cried. "He was already stabbed, though…I didn't realize that till after I shot him…He…he was leaning over…whoever stabbed him must have just been there…he fell when I shot him."

"Too bad the stab wounds weren't what killed him," Alex said. "The gunshot wound, on the other hand…"

"I didn't mean to kill him!" LeBeau sobbed.

There was a slight rapping on the door and Deakins came in. "Good news, Mr. LeBeau," he said. "You didn't."

"Wh-what?"

"I just got a call from the Medical Examiner. The bullet was lodged in the shoulder blade. Though he would have been in a lot of pain, Mr. Policy wouldn't have died from it…these officers are going to take you down for booking, however, for attempted murder." Two uniformed officers had followed him in and they took LeBeau away.

"Now what?" Carolyn asked Deakins.

"Rodgers ruled out the stab wounds and the gunshot wound," Deakins said. "Leaving the strangulation marks."

"So whoever strangled him killed him," Alex said.

"We've got Claire Wentworth and Brent McInerney left," Carolyn said.

"Yeah, about that," Deakins said. "Your partners just finished talking with the cook…about Ms. Wentworth's alibi…you should go talk to them…there have been some new developments."


End file.
